Fifteen minutes: Another episode of Dirty Sexy Money, where I'll see my hunka-hunka burning white-haired bulbous-nosed passion Donald Sutherland, the oh-so emaciated Jill Clayburgh and the rest of those fun, reckless and rich Darlings. As I spent the day on Amtrak going to a Dish family reunion, I envisioned my Netflix envelope of 24 sitting in my mailbox. Can you imagine Jack Bauer at a sedate family gathering, chowing on baked beans, chicken and potato salad (he'd probably drink all the beer and wizz on the picnic tables--or at least Kiefer would)? Jack might not participate in the water balloon toss, yack about olden times or look at emus with my cousins' children, as Dish did. I avoided the balloon toss because I didn't spend two hours straightening my hair for nothing. And those kids are bad throwers. Not to mention Dish won't do a wet t-shirt contest in front of family--only everyone else--but I did drop a massive F bomb as I was leaving. During the celebration, I helped decorate turtle hats with a five-year-old, one three-year-old and a baby--all of whom threw their markers on the ground, not efficient for crafting! The Dishes are a fun group and provided only the best in fattening comfort food.
I barely got to read Page Six but summertime is not so exciting in the celebrity world. Well, aside from all the deaths. Otherwise, it's like they hibernate during off season. Come fall, there'll be a new season of freak shows.
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